


Daylight

by DragonK



Category: Primeval
Genre: F/M, Gen, Nick and Stephen cameos, Spirits, background jess/becker, background matt/emily
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-27
Updated: 2014-06-30
Packaged: 2018-02-06 12:22:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1857918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonK/pseuds/DragonK
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After death, a spirit can stay in the world of the living until they choose to move onwards, but at risk to their existence. It's worth it, he thinks. And then things get complicated really fast.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've written 10 chapters of this story already, and they're posted under the same title on ff.net, but when I decided to post it here, I also decided to rewrite the first half. I'm not sure what my posting schedule will be, but I'll do my best.

  
_Connor breathed out an apology, and then he breathed no more._  
  
  
* * * *  
  


It was a normal anomaly call, nothing unusual. They found the anomaly quickly, and Connor locked it.

They didn't see any signs of an incursion, though Abby, Emily, Matt and Becker split up to search. The dire wolves were definitely unexpected, scattering the team and, unfortunately, bringing several soldiers down. Connor unlocked the anomaly, ostensibly to let them back through… and just like the last time, more wolves exited into the 21st century. He spotted Abby, eyes flashing as she shot one of the dire wolves with a burst from her EMD, but another of the large creatures blocked his view, and suddenly Connor found himself without a weapon, face to face with some really sharp teeth.

There was a sudden flare of pain, and he thought, distantly, that he tried to fight it off, push it away. He heard Abby scream, the sound of an EMD firing, once, twice, three times. The weight of the wolf landed heavily on him, and Connor lay still as it was heaved off of him. He tried to move, but something was wrong, nothing was responding right.  
  
His neck was awash with pain. Connor tasted the coppery tang of blood, and struggled to draw a breath. Abby moved into his line of sight, her eyes angry and wet. His vision was spotty, black crawling in from the edges of his sight. Connor did his best to focus on Abby, and even as he lay dying he tried to reach to her, a broken, bloody attempt at a smile on his face.  
  
The next breaths he took rattled wetly, and Connor didn’t think it was reaching his lungs anymore, not with the way it brought no relief to inhale. He was scared, just a little, but the urge to close his eyes, to rest, was getting to him, a numbness spreading through his body rapidly.  
  
Abby’s voice seemed to reach him from miles away, through a tunnel, a tinny edge to it.

"Connor, Connor stay with me!"

"Sorry" he tried to say, the taste of copper thick on his tongue as what could only be blood dribbled from his lips. Abby choked on a sob, stroking his cheek soothingly. The last time he’d seen that look on her face was when he’d carried Nick’s body from the old arc. If he hadn’t known he was on the threshold of death, that expression would’ve convinced him.  
  
And then there was nothing, though he was sort of weirdly aware of the feeling of floating, and darkness, a lack of sound and smell, and his thoughts disjointed, sporadic, with huge gaps in between where he was not aware of anything at all.  
  


* * * *  
  


He 'woke up' after what felt like ages and a second all at once. Wait. He'd _died._  How had he woken up _at all_?! Connor reached up to touch his neck, the memory of teeth making him swallow convulsively. His hand passed through the space, though, and when he looked down at his hand, his skin was almost completely transparent. Panicking a little, he waited for his heart to jolt, but the lack of a beat in his chest confirmed it.  
  
" I'm dead." Connor said, and then paused," I'm dead, but I'm... not?" It made no sense at all. Bewildered, Connor looked around him. He was lying - floating - a few centimeters above the ground.

"Where am I?" It was easier to think out loud, because he could pretend that everything was fine. The place… it looked familiar.

"The forest of Dean?" He wondered, shrugging after a moment. He stood up, or at least moved from being horizontal to vertical, and then Connor took a floating step forwards, and suddenly things blurred, like he was in a car watching through the window at scenery passing by.   
  
When everything stopped moving, and the world around him solidified once more, Connor looked around again. It seemed like he was in the same forest, only now there was an anomaly swirling in midair several meters away from him. Connor stared at it, feeling more confused than before.


	2. Chapter 2

"To lost friends." Becker said, voice rough. Lester solemnly clinked his glass against the Captains, the others followed suit, murmuring the words softly before taking a sip of their respective drinks. Abby was seated between Emily and Jess, across from Becker, and her voice was strong and firm as she spoke.

"To lost loved ones," she said, and they all repeated the action from before. Abby tipped her glass back and finished her drink; Emily leaned against her left shoulder, a silent means of comfort that Abby appreciated.

"What's going to happen now?" Jess asked, and her voice was very small. The team looked to Lester for guidance.

He looked lost for a moment, reminiscing perhaps, as one of only two individuals alive who had been a part of the team from the very beginning, of the years before. Then the man's expression firmed, the grief still there, but managed, and they could all see that. Somehow, it helped.

 

"What we have always done," Lester said, and the determination in his eyes helped, too. 

 

* * *

 

Connor felt a pull from the 'anomaly' before him, as he was made of metal. He resisted it, wary and cautious. The anomaly shimmered, and out of it floated the translucent form of Nick Cutter.

"Professor!" Connor blurted, eyes wide. Cutter smiled ruefully, and took floating steps towards his former student.

"Hello Connor. I'd hoped that it would be much, much longer before I'd be meeting you again." Cutter said, brogue as thick as ever, and with the sound came a wash of nostalgia and Connor wished he could hug the man.

 

"Sorry," he said, for lack of anything better to say, knowing that his wish was impossible. Cutter chuckled.

"It's alright. You couldn't do anything about it, Connor." Cutter said, and the younger man shuddered slightly, trying to forget the feeling of dying, but nodded.

"Cutter… What… how…" Connor shook his head, and then tried again: "I'm dead." Cutter nodded.

"Yes."

"But I'm still - we're." He growls in frustration.

"Spirits seems the best word. Through that anomaly is Onward, where spirits must all go eventually. The only time you can come back after you go onwards is to guide a loved one, which is what I am doing right now." Cutter explains.

"But…I don't want to go 'onwards', Professor! I - I want to stay with Abby." Connor said, but his tone was defeated, like he expected to be dissapointed. Cutter was glad he could belie that misconception.

"You're allowed to stick around," he said, and smiled when hope bloomed in Connor's eyes, "And you can find your way back to this place whenever you decide to go on. But, eventually you will have to."

"So I can… what, haunt my flat?"

 

"You're not a ghost, you're a spirit, they're completely different." Cutter said, chuckling. "But if you are staying on… You can take a physical, visible form at will to interact with the living."

"Really?" Connor asked, surprised. He was expecting the frustration of watching but being unable to do anything about it.

"At a cost, Connor," Cutter warned, "doing this too often, especially in the daytime, can potentially destroy you permanently, leaving your spirit as a dangerous poltergeist and shutting off your consciousness forever." That was sobering, but having 'rules' assured Connor that this was actually happening. He did wonder about the daytime thing, but didn't ask.

"Okay." Connor swallowed, steadying himself as best as spirit can, and then repeated, "Okay. Thanks, Professor - for everything." He looked at his mentor, brow furrowed slightly, "onwards - is it like this? I mean, can we interact?"

"You'll have to wait and find out." Cutter said, enigmatically. Connor was quiet for a few moments.  
"I'm sorry." He said, and hoped Cutter would know what he meant.

"Connor, there's nothing to apologize for. I am incredibly proud of you." The assurance was soothing. Connor nodded wordlessly.

"Thank you." He managed.

Somehow Connor knew Cutter's time visiting was up even before the scot started to back towards the anomaly.

"Go, be with Abby."

'Bye, Professor." Connor felt like crying. Cutter floated through the anomaly, and Connor turned away, and took a step, thinking of home.

The world blurred, and then oriented itself around him, leaving Connor floating in the middle of the lounge of his and Abby's flat, sun shining in through the windows casting a soft haze through the space.

 

* * *

 

Abby wasn't home, and Connor wasn't sure how long it had been since his...death. A quick glance at the calendar helped with that: a week. It was a little bemusing, since it felt like no time at all to him. Rex he found sitting unusually quietly in the rafters, and Connor floated up to look at him. The lizard's wings were drooping. He apologized, pointlessly because he couldn't possibly hear him, before returning to the ground. 

 

He didn't give himself time to think too much about his plans, because if he started thinking he'd dig himself a hole he could never get out of. So when 'but what are you going to do? Abby doesn't need protecting, she never needed you, your current existence is useless.' tried to drift through his mind, Connor shut it down firmly, distracting himself with action.

 

Connor'd thought maybe Abby would've been encouraged to take time off from work by Lester and the others, but if she wasn't home the first place to check was absolutely the ARC. If she wasn't there, he supposed he could check their regular takeout and the grocery or video stores...

A single step, concentrating on the image of the Hub of the ARC in his mind, and once more the world fell apart and reassembled itself before his eyes.

 

Connor immediately headed to the ADD, intent on finding Abby from the surveillance, and froze in place for a moment when he saw that Jess's shirt and skirt were in muted colors and flats, rather than her usual bright colors and impossible heels. It was unsettling, seeing such clear evidence of the effect his death had on the team, on his friend. Not that he'd doubted it, but still.

 

Connor moved closer and followed Jess' gaze to one screen in particular. Abby was standing in the breakroom making tea, and though her face was hidden from the camera's view, he had a feeling he'd see the signs of recent tears if he could. With that thought, he floated away as quickly as he could. He couldn't do much, but he needed to know if she was okay, at least.

 

* * *

 

Abby stirred sugar into her mug of tea, mind wandering aimlessly as she went about this robotically. It'd been two days since they'd sat down together as a team and toasted to Connor's memory, and the initial strength Lester's words had given them had, for her, worn off already. She knew she needed time, but she wasn't sure she could bear to be in the mostly empty flat for any large amount of time. Her heart ached something fierce.  
She missed Connor. She knew she could move on, of course she could, she'd done it with Stephen, and Cutter. But she wasn't used to being alone anymore, she and Connor had spent a year in the past with only each other for support, and now he was gone, stolen from her. It was the height of unfairness, and she'd had her happiness stolen from her before, many times, but this... it was so much worse in a way. 

Her hand on the mug shook.


End file.
